


on the morrow.

by SunnyJune



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alpha Chanyeol, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Chapter 2 Tags:, Exhibitionism, Fingering, Infidelity, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Mommy Kink, Old Town AU, Omega Baekhyun, intercourse, slight voyeur, titties lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:35:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29215014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnyJune/pseuds/SunnyJune
Summary: Park Chanyeol is a young, simple craftsman with a confounded love for the beautiful, well-to-do, intelligent, and most importantly, married, Byun Baekhyun. Poise and grace like this, worth more than all that Chanyeol owns to his name, would be wasted on the likes of him, anyway, he feels.Baekhyun, on the contrary, finds him to be charming and sweet, even if a bit young and brazen. Even if they shouldn’t entertain each other, as tensions grow between those that have everything and those that have nothing at all, his roommate disappears, and the town spirals into an insidious disarray.Misc: [any excuse to write about bbh in a dress]
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 5
Kudos: 33





	on the morrow.

**Author's Note:**

> _old, dusty draft post. no edits, so avoid if typo’s make you cringe!_   
>  _a brief update? i’m super busy! but, my research lab got cancelled because of covid (again), so i wanted to fill the small spare time between work and uni with some writing. i’m still abstaining from all my social media’s for a necessary productivity/mental health boost, but i’ll get back to my dm’s someday! happy 2021??? can i even say that? well, i hope that you have a good one, anyway. :^)_

## chapter i ; amorous afternoons like these.

Mellow sunlight warms the tops of Baekhyun’s plush thighs, glinting softly off of pearlescent skin, sweaty clavicles, and saliva-laden lips the color of mature summer peonies. With quiet murmurs of pleasure unto an unassuming and early afternoon, he clutches bunches of his olive-green frock against his waist and hitches his knees up as he delicately fingers at his wet pussy. His free hand drifts with no urgency along the gentle give of his stomach, over the modest rise of his breast, and up the graceful stretch of his neck before landing upon his cheek. He feels how it burns with fervor against his palm while he pushes his fingers deeper, jolting his hips forward as he meets a timid opening, tensed though hot and longing. Tremors travel over his torso, his thighs falter and his eyes roll back as he bends and twists with the lustful thrills coursing beneath searing skin, savoring the heavy heat that spreads throughout his abdomen with each careful caress of his middle finger; up and down the tender flesh, carefully traversing over the sensitive spot as he huffs breathily into the humid summer air. And yet, atop the tension he has built and his gentle writhing, he finally breaks when the opening softens and his finger unintentionally slips through. He quivers and collapses into himself, slumps into sun-warmed sheets as his chest heaves. As quickly as he halts, he begins again, quicker than before, hungrier than before, with his cheek pushed into his pillow and his brows pulled down in a pleasured frown as he hurries after a hushed, private orgasm.

With the sun shining through his eyelids, the breeze shuffling through his modest, brown curls, and the smell of lavender from the garden bed just outside his windowsill, he continues to masturbate; unwittingly in the company of a set of eyes and a familiar face. A wandering alpha who ought to be in the front yard installing his husbands new oil lamppost. Yet, the delectable aroma of sugary-sweet allure had led him along to Baekhyun’s windowsill, and now here he stood, spared of nudity only by the frilly slip layer beneath his dress and a deep neckline that sidled dangerously low on his chest. He stares wide-eyed as the omega fucks himself with his own hand and he listens intently to all the desperate, failed attempts at silence that follow. He fails, but he does so gorgeously as he quakes in staccato, mussing his hair about as he continues his swift pacing; that which seems so close to orgasm - and yet so far - until he exhales low and soft, biting at his lip as he falls limp into the sheets once more, defenseless and useless as slick trickles down his entrance and soils pristine, cotton-white bed linen. He lifts not so much as a finger as he calms, only alerted to the alpha’s presence by a flagrant flare of something tangy unto his nose; a beckoning call, provocative and raunchy, that begs for him. Chanyeol, an odd juxtaposition of the polite and indecorous, as if to suggest that they could be one and the same, watches with both heavy desire and a sort of fondness as he leans against the windowsill, in appreciation of an omega with a figure finer than any he’d ever seen— plump and ever-giving, graceful and smooth, with the type of olive skin that looks best in afternoon sunlight like this. 

Upon a sudden inhale, Baekhyun shoots his sharp eyes open. Lustfully, deliberately, and with exigent and well-defined though wordless intent, he motions for him with the weak and subtle tilt of his head.

Unable to deny the omega’s desires (and equally unable to deny his own), Chanyeol looks to his left, then his right, and then back into the wooded forest beyond the vast gardens to the vague hum of the heavy heat haze. Still, motionless, _silent_ , met only by the distant clamber of workmen around the front yard who are all busy, unbothered, and consequently unknowing of his absence. 

As quickly as he could mark himself clear, Chanyeol takes into the open window with a concerning deftness, uncaring of the dirty scuff mark that his work boots leave on expensive mahogany floors as he kicks them off and undoes his belt in one fluid motion, tossing both in indiscriminate and unimportant directions before pulling Baekhyun’s thighs into his lap. By now, he’s far too clouded in irrevocable lust to be burdened by the formalities of lining himself up and slowly guiding himself in, yet he does so anyway, resisting the urge to brutalize Baekhyun’s cunt in all the ways he begs for him to when his husband isn’t home. The pretty omega pushes his head back and captures Chanyeol’s hips between his legs, stammering over his own breaths as the alpha continues with his metered, patient, and excruciatingly slow thrusts. 

Baekhyun breaths in small exhales as his body resists the fullness that he yearns for, not harboring so much as half of his length, and certainly not anywhere near that fleshy little space deep inside of him that he seeks. He attempts to move his hips forward but is met with a firm palm pressing into his tummy and a quiet _’shh’_ , and at this he instantly unravels. His hips spasm, his lips part as his eyes take on an aroused glaze, and so easily does he almost beg to have his heavy cock nestled deep inside of him. Only, Baekhyun is not the type to beg, nor is he the shy type, so Chanyeol keeps the pressure on, letting up just once to look Baekhyun up and down; both to admire his body and to seek direction. The older omega meets his unspeaking gaze with eyes that are dark and linear like the evening horizon, glinting heavily with the coarse, emboldened, and unashamed sensuality that always epitomizes his most potent heats. 

The older omega rifles indignantly as Chanyeol coddles him like he’s a demure virgin rather than the seasoned, mated omega he really is. His chest burns with sexual frustration as he reaches out, guiding Chanyeol’s lips to his with featherweight fingertips upon his jaw. He kisses along his rosy, perspiring cheeks and the tip of his flushed nose, lightly pecks at his temples and then all over his forehead before holding his lascivious gaze; daring Chanyeol to do whatever he wants. 

And thusly, the sentimental alpha calls his bluff. But, as he leaks precum, slowly thrusting deeper into him, he can’t help but let his conviction falter; inhaling shakily as a shiver runs up and down his spine. It’s all too much, like he’ll come inside him right then and there if the omega shifts his hips the right way, like he’s never been inside of an omega all over again. It’s always this way. Baekhyun lays beneath him, sticky, sweaty, and glowing a faint coral all over the softest spots of his body, partially from the heat, of course, but mostly by his being there. They never exchange words for fear of being caught unless they’ve been left alone on a rare occasion, Baekhyun never lets him touch anything above his waist, and yet Chanyeol indulges in whatever he can get his filthy hands upon, and Baekhyun responds sweetly and explosively, however impatient he may be. Chanyeol finds this endearing; funny, almost, as he chuckles inwardly. They share an interesting relationship, he thinks, if it could even be dubbed one.

He peels his button-up from tacky, sweaty skin and discards it heedlessly, pulling Baekhyun’s leg over his shoulder before following the desire in his pelvis and pushing in, unrestrained, letting the older omega twitch on his cock. His mouth falls open as his eyes flutter shut, but nary a sound follows – only the sharp, frustrated inhale that holds and holds and holds as he bites into his lower lip, brows drawn up as the small opening just shy of his fingers is pushed open and held gaping. He oozes with slick like it’d never stop coming, like he’d cum crying. His smooth, velvety, inner walls are caressed and rubbed and thrusted into, everything he’d craved, as if Chanyeol could do no wrong, even in his often unrefined and indelicate manner.

Baekhyun digs his fingertips into Chanyeol’s bulky, muscled thigh, and the screwed frown of ecstasy smeared upon his face makes it well known that he’s edging right along his orgasm. This face, Chanyeol had always thought - with a tiny mole dotted right upon his cheekbone, pretty as can be with his brows pulled down and his plumps lips falling slack in a messy sigh threatening to spill over - was especially winsome. 

As always, he brings his hand to Baekhyun’s mouth to capture his cries and moans into his palm. His cunt trembles, begging him to cum inside and keep his knot there, accustomed to his presence and shape, by now, even if never accustomed to his size. The older omega gushes one final time, and his chest rises and falls in a steady adagio as his tight grip loosens into a frail hold. Slick coats the linen, the backs of his thick thighs, and Chanyeol’s groin, delivered by a timid little squirt that the alpha awes more than Baekhyun realizes. 

Even in the brevity of orgasmic exhaustion, Baekhyun pulls himself up in a listless spell, letting Chanyeol sit back and watch as he finishes him off. Thin, nimble fingers work deftly as he suffers from his own aftershocks, sometimes squeezing a bit too hard, jerking a bit too fast, and yet Chanyeol still bucks up into his soft, warm fist and spills cum all over his hand, anyway, like he’s never been touched before. Chanyeol never understood why, but Baekhyun always licks him clean – perhaps as a courtesy, perhaps because he likes the taste. He wasn’t sure and he doesn’t care. He always takes this moment to push his hair out of his face and stare at him, dare he say fondly, with a bit of love that he wishes he could rationalize to himself. He never could, and so he kept finding himself back here, if only to have him tell him that he wanted him to stay; to run away together in some fantastical dreamscape of his, to cum inside of him and so selfishly stake his claim, to know if he was being put up with, or if he was wanted, even needed, here. He endlessly doted upon Baekhyun, regarding the omega as precious and ravishing in the highest regard. Organic and ethereal and oh-so-sweet in a flame of perpetual ardor that had continued on since the first day he’d gotten to greet him by lucky happenstance.

As always, Baekhyun shoos him away with a haze as thick as the summer bog in his eyes, lying relaxed across the bed in his pretty olive-green dress, pearl earrings shimmering in the sunlight of an afternoon that is still young. Chanyeol re-dresses himself (not before finding his clothing scattered across the room) and sits upon the edge of the bed as he deliberately takes longer to tie his shoes, and after having finally mustered up the courage, he plants a gentle kiss upon Baekhyun’s forehead. 

Chanyeol stays for a short while, bereft of his sense of time as he observes Baekhyun’s dozy, blushed face. He seems to linger on his few sun-planted freckles and his downy eyelashes this time, always enraptured by something new, though he lacks the courage to say so. Without so much as a farewell, even if one is not expected, he leaves the way he came, shutting the window behind him and heading to the front courtyard to continue his work.

The dust in the room soon settles, all falls quiet, and Baekhyun presses the back of his hand upon his forehead, unable to bring himself to open his heavy eyelids. He felt that he and Chanyeol were engaged in some kind of trade, the type so intimate that it simply couldn’t be paid back any other way. Not with anything he would ever have to offer as a craftsman. Certainly not in his lifetime. And yet, a gesture as small as a kiss made his stomach flutter and his heartbeat quicken. 

As he slips into a light slumber, he can only wonder when he’d grown so overfond of mild, tenderhearted touches like these. Soon, he was fast asleep, his light snores drowned out by the endless clicking of summertime cicadas and a lingering melancholia that stewed heavy in his lonesome heart.


End file.
